


we had a little talk

by KingPreussen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Hogwarts Fourth Year, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2019-02-05 03:28:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12785973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingPreussen/pseuds/KingPreussen
Summary: "It doesn't have to be a date if you don't want it to be," Potter said almost sheepishly.The entire back and forth was making Draco more nervous than before, if that was even possible. He was ten seconds from standing up, walking out, and jinxing Granger for making him do this at all.---Draco gets the invitation of a lifetime. Whether it's genuine or not is up for debate.





	we had a little talk

**Author's Note:**

> title from [we had a little talk](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K4ZEAfMKhVM)
> 
> hi everyone!
> 
> ive been lurking in this section of ao3 for years now, and i finally decided to try my hand at a fic. i also want to do a continuation sometime soon but for now im not going to push my inspiration too hard
> 
> this microfic is in honor of some of the best writers in the fandom (in my opinion, at least). theres a partial rec list in the end notes. i hope you enjoy!

"Afternoon, Malfoy."

Draco looked up from his Transfiguration textbook, watching Potter and Longbottom walk past his window alcove from one of the moving staircases. He usually made sure his bag was tucked between himself and whatever wall he was sitting against to prevent it getting taken, but right then it was sitting on the floor, a good foot underneath the cushioned windowsill. He grabbed it by the leather strap and quickly pulled it up into his lap.

Potter didn't look offended or even confused by his action. He smiled thinly instead, pausing in his steps for a moment and raising his hand as if he were going to do something _friendly_ , like clasp his hand around Draco's shoulder. Then he thought better of it and continued on, Longbottom looking confused between the two of them without comment.

Draco didn't realize he'd been holding his breath the whole time until his lungs started to burn so he took a deep inhale. He lessened the knuckle-whitening grip he had on his textbook as well.

It wasn't as if he really had anything to be afraid of. Draco had been enthralled with Potter ever since he first saw him waiting with his parents for the Hogwarts Express on their first day. It was years ago now, but the first time they locked eyes was practically burned into Draco's brain. The edge of Potter's lightning bolt scar was just visible between curly locks of his dark bangs, but Draco could only pay attention to the deep, bottle green of his eyes.

Of course, Draco couldn't just _approach_ him and ask to be friends. The Malfoys were disgraced after the war, having stood firmly on the side of the Dark Lord before Draco had even been born. The fact that Potter and his family stopped the Dark Lord's second coming when Potter was only a year old just widened the impassable social chasm between them.

Draco's treatment at the hands of his peers wasn't so violent that he would call it bullying, but it still stung. Hence hiding his bag whenever he could. He'd had his far share of slugs and beetles poured into it, when the perpetrator didn't decide to just snatch and upend it in front of him. Words, quite frankly, hurt less, especially because they didn't cause his quills and inkwells to bend and break.

But recently--all through fourth year actually, and it was coming up on December--Potter had been acting… differently. He had never teased Draco like his classmates, but also never made an effort to talk to him as much as he had been. Potter passed by him much more often than usual, sometimes hesitating, sometimes not, but always offering a greeting. Draco wasn't sure what he was up to, so he mostly kept silent, watching Potter warily. So far there were no threats but that didn't mean there wouldn't be in future.

Draco fitted a cross-stitched blue bookmark, courtesy of his housemate Lovegood, into his textbook and shut it gently. Obviously he had overstayed his welcome in this part of the castle, if Hogwarts was sending Potter his way. Either he needed to find a more hidden corner to study in or stay up in his dorm until dinner.

After re-packing his bag and charming the zipper closed to prevent someone opening it without him knowing, Draco slid off of the windowsill and straightened his robes. Granger was coming up the stairs just as he stood, her hair a familiar curly brown mass like a sheep's wool.

She paused at the top of the stairs when she saw him. "Draco," she said with a nod, and then, to his surprise, turned around and started down the stairs again.

"Hermione, what's wrong?" he asked, rushing to sling his bag across his chest and hurry after her. She allowed him to take her arm but didn't look up at him. In first year, Draco assumed the rumors about his family and their political leanings would keep Granger from associating with him, even if they were year and housemates in Ravenclaw. Through some stroke of luck, Granger was smart in both books and common sense, and took Draco for who he was and not what his family believed.

Granger scrubbed at her eyes with her free hand, sniffling. "It's nothing, I'm just being… you know." She shrugged without continuing. 

Unfortunately, Draco didn't know. "I don't know," he said aloud. "I'm going back to the common room, if that wasn't where… whatever happened. Come on, we'll have some tea." Granger's watery smile was answer enough.

It was only when they were curled up in a plush blue sofa angled in front of the main fireplace, tea tray set up to one side and bags stowed in their rooms, that Granger finally opened up.

"It's Parkinson again," she said, practically hiding behind her teacup. "She was talking about my parents, and how I'm… M-Muggleborn. I try not to let it get to me, most of the time, but I'm just so worried about exams and all."

Were Draco and Granger in any other house, he would remind her that they wouldn't have their OWLs until over a year from then. Of course she was studying for a series of examinations that most fourth years didn't even know about. "Winter holiday is coming up, Hermione, can't you take a break from all that until we come back? Wouldn't it be better to stagger your studies rather than cramming and losing all that information?"

Logic, thankfully, managed to convince her to at least lessen the death grip she had on her mug. "I suppose so. Just a month wouldn't hurt, right?"

"Absolutely." Draco leaned back against the arm of the couch, smiling in satisfaction. "I can even help make up revising plans come January." He toed his shoes off and settled more comfortably into the cushions. "Ignore Parkinson, anyway. She's an ugly bint who's pissy about her father's inability to be properly evil. At least my father chose the wrong side all the way, instead of waffling in the middle."

Draco didn't know what expression he was wearing, but it made Granger reach over and pat his knee gently. "Your _father_ did, yes. I think I'm safe in saying that you're on the right side."

"Why are girls so sappy?" he groused without heat, nudging her hand off his leg but then shifting to sit against her instead of across from her. She leaned her head against his shoulder, cloud of hair compressing easily between them.

Draco was so relaxed that he didn't even startle when an owl landed in front of him, holding a rolled up parchment wrapped in a shiny green ribbon. Granger was the first to reach for it, but the owl hopped a few steps away from her and hooted at Draco. "Yes, alright," he said, reluctantly moving from his comfortable position to receive his mail.

When he took the parchment, the owl didn't leave, obviously expecting a reply. Draco sighed and loosened the ribbon around the parchment, and then unrolled it and skimmed quickly to the bottom. He almost dropped it before he could actually see what it said just from the signature. Granger frowned at him and then looked over his shoulder to read it as well.

 _Draco,_ it read in endearingly messy handwriting, as if the writer were a close friend and not a near constant source of anxiety for the past three and a half years.

_I've been trying to talk to you in person about this, but I always get too nervous._

_The Yule Ball is coming up, and all that, and I was wondering if you would go with me? Maybe?_

_I realize we haven't really talked at all, so before you say no, Luna told me about this restaurant you like in Hogsmeade. Hinterlands? Would you eat there with me this weekend?_

_\- Harry_

Granger took the parchment out of his still hands and read it over again, seeming moments from casting some kind of detection charm on it. She had talked to Potter much more often than Draco could ever dream and had referred to him as one of her best friends multiple times. The fact that she didn't know Potter was planning this didn't sit well in Draco's stomach.

"He's taking the piss, isn't he?" Draco said in a bleak monotone. He felt numb all over; it was much better to be ignored by Potter than to be tormented by him.

Granger was shaking her head halfway through his question. "I don't think so, Draco. He asked you on a date before the ball, so it's not like he wants to stand you up. Besides, Harry is pretty bold but he's not _mean_."

Draco had to believe her, with no evidence of his own. From what he heard professors and other adults saying, Potter had taken after his father in looks and personality. He was the best Seeker in the school in the past hundred years and there wasn’t anyone who hadn't personally known his kindness. Except Draco.

"But… _me_?" he asked weakly. "He doesn't even know me. I'm sure he has a hoard of fans who want to go to the ball with him… the Malfoy name is shit in Britain."

"None of Harry's family has ever put that much stock in names." Granger rubbed the parchment between her thumb and forefinger. Her eyes were on Draco, not pitying, but considering. "His godfather was the first Gryffindor Black in centuries. I'm sure the Potters wouldn't care if Harry wanted to see you."

Draco tried to push the nauseous feeling away and actually think. This was the offer of a lifetime, even if it was in jest, and he would regret not saying yes. Maybe Potter was as genuine as Granger seemed to think he was.

"Do you have a spare bit of parchment?" he finally asked, rummaging in his robe pockets for the Self-Inking Quill he received as a birthday present over the summer. When Granger handed him a few inches, he flattened it on the table beside him and put ink to paper.

_Potter,_

_I'll meet you at Hinterlands at one p.m. on Saturday._

Draco paused, considered adding "don't be late," decided that was too rude, and instead signed his name at the bottom. "He's lucky it’s a Hogsmeade weekend," he muttered under his breath. Granger didn't reply, but she was smiling like she knew what he would choose the whole time. Draco liked her just that much to not say anything about it.

* * *

Potter looked inordinately surprised at Draco's appearance in front of him a few days later. It had been lightly snowing for the past few minutes and several flakes were resting in his hair, starkly white against the black. "I didn't think you'd come," he said, and then stammered something else that Draco could barely make out. It sounded like an apology.

"Did you not want me to?" Draco didn't mean to let his anxiety get the better of him, but there he was, bundled completely away from the snow and still feeling icy dread down his spine. 

Potter rapidly shook his head. "Of course I wanted you to, Mal--Draco, I was just. Nervous." He blushed a rather becoming shade of red, scratching the back of his unruly head of hair and looking everywhere except at Draco. "Come in, it's too cold out here for me to keep you." Potter even reached out a hand, and Draco instinctively took it, allowing himself to be pulled over the threshold.

They picked a table and sat down across from one another. Potter hesitated in taking off his own scarf to give Draco an unreadable look. "Do you need help with your coat?" At Draco's blank stare, Potter continued, "Only, my mum said it was polite to take your date's coat. Sorry, I forgot to pull out your chair, I--"

Draco decided to be magnanimous and give Potter a break. "Don't worry about it," he said, waving a hand dismissively. If Potter tripped over his words any more he'd probably choke. "Why did you invite me here?" he asked, straight to the point despite his nerves.

"Er." Potter twisted his scarf between his hands, hesitant in contrast. "I. Well, we've never really talked, and every time I see you I want to, er. Have a conversation."

"You called it a date," Draco said when it seemed that Potter wasn't going to continue. His heart was practically pounding in his chest but he stayed calm on the outside, folding his hands in his lap and watching Potter flounder.

Lucky for Potter, a waitress came up to the two of them before he could stumble his way through that answer as well. Draco ordered his regular, a simple fish and chips; the way his words left Potter gaping it might as well have been lobster thermidor. Potter gathered himself enough to order a pasta, and then managed to meet Draco's eyes for more than a second.

Draco cleared his throat. "The date?" he asked again.

Potter nodded as if he had already answered Draco's question. "It doesn't have to be a date if you don't want it to be," he said almost sheepishly.

The entire back and forth was making Draco more nervous than before, if that was even possible. He was ten seconds from standing up, walking out, and jinxing Granger for making him do this at all. "Whatever game you're playing, Potter, I want no part in it. Weasel set you up to this, didn't he?"

One of Potter's best friends Ronald was the youngest son of the Weasleys, another pureblood family with much less wealth but more social standing than the Malfoys. Draco wasn't usually a target to either of the twins, or the sister, Ginevra, but Ronald was as big a fan of Draco as Draco was of him.

"It's not a game, and Ron has nothing to do with it." Ah, there was the reliable Potter temper. Potter's eyebrows were drawn down in a frown now, visible under his bangs, and his charming lopsided grin was gone. "I fancy you, Draco. I want to get to know you, and take you to the dance, and maybe keep going out with you. If you don't want that, it's fine, but it doesn't change the fact that I…." Potter trailed off and Draco didn't have anything to say. "I like you a lot," Potter finally murmured.

Draco was sure he was dreaming, or that he'd died of hypothermia in the snow and, through some miracle, went to heaven. "You fancy me?" he repeated breathily. It was the first sentence he'd latched onto and his mind was very slowly processing the rest.

Potter blinked at him, and then his grin returned, looking markedly more besotted. Draco's heart skipped a few beats in response. "I do. I couldn't let someone else ask you out without trying myself."

"Someone else," Draco snorted. It was a funny concept, honestly. Draco knew he was conventionally attractive--or at least, he would be, once he lost the rest of his baby fat--but again, it all boiled down to reputation. "Pull the other one, Potter."

"Harry," Potter said.

He just sat there, eyes warm and guileless behind his round glasses, waiting for Draco to decide. And, after the fact, Draco knew that was what convinced him.

"Harry." Draco smiled at him and Potter's answering smile was brilliant.

**Author's Note:**

> here are some of my recs. the fics are among my favorites, but the authors are the important part:
> 
> series [Simple Acts](http://archiveofourown.org/series/801198) by XxTheDarkLordxX
> 
> [There's No I In Team](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7484097) by JulietsEmoPhase
> 
> [A Young Radical's Guide to Love](http://archiveofourown.org/works/643932/chapters/1168890) by blamebrampton
> 
> [Malfoy Meets Muggle](http://archiveofourown.org/works/900710/chapters/1741382) by PenNoire
> 
> [Bond](http://archiveofourown.org/works/754708/chapters/1410134) by AnnaFugazzi
> 
> [Kiss Me (Under the Light of a Thousand Stars)](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3175186/chapters/6896838) by Sophie_French
> 
> [There's a Pure-Blood Custom For That](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1652549/chapters/3504761) by Lomonaaeren


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